Ties
by PeachCheetah
Summary: She couldn't see, she couldn't move, she could barely think straight.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Full disclosure - big chunks of this are repurposed from a very old fic I wrote years ago for a now defunct fandom. Waste not, want not, I say. This is set sometime post-finale, the exact timing isn't important. Don't bother looking for a plot, there's none of that here either. Big thanks to MajorSam for all the inspiration ;)

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 **Chapter I**

"So, then he had to walk all the way back to base, and of course straight into the Sargent Major, and had to explain both the blindfold and the rubber chicken," Wyatt chuckled as he finished his story.

Lucy laughed along with him, although paused briefly, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Hang on, why was there a blindfold?".

"They found it in his effects," Wyatt explained. "I think he had just been back from leave with his girlfriend or something." He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine.

Lucy raised an eyebrow slightly as she took a bite of her food, a smile playing across her lips and her mind starting to wander.

He paused.

He knew that smile.

Briefly wiping his mouth with his napkin to hide his own grin, he put down his cutlery on his empty plate and gestured to the waiter. "Should we go?"

Snapping back to attention, she nodded, finishing her last few bites and downing the last mouthful of wine. After settling the bill, he graciously pulled out her chair and handed her her purse. Taking his offered hand, she followed him through the restaurant, out the front door, and to the car.

He had taken her to a quiet little bistro close to their apartment. They had a fabulous dinner with fabulous wine and fabulous dessert. Conversation flowed easily between them, as it always did these days, and there was as much hand holding above the table as there was footsies below. They drove the short distance home in comfortable silence, hands clasped together on the centre console.

When they arrived home, he opened her door for her and led her inside the building to their apartment. Unlocking the door, he ushered her in ahead of him and shut the heavy wooden door.

It was dark. The sun had set hours ago and they hadn't left any lights on. She started reaching for the hallway light switch when she felt Wyatt come up close behind her.

He pressed his whole body against hers and she instinctively leaned back into him. She heard him rustling in his pockets, discarding keys, wallet, and whatever else, and he bent his head to press a warm kiss to the crook of her neck. His arms lifted and she expected them to slide around her waist. Instead, she felt soft fabric drawn across her face.

A blindfold.

A thrill ran up her spine and her pulse quickened. He quickly tied the knot behind her head and his hands returned to her body.

"I saw that look on your face before," he whispered in her ear. One arm pulled her even tighter against him as his hand found her breast. The other hand had moved to the hem of her dress and slid underneath. "You're a little kinky, aren't you?"

"Maybe," she breathed, her excitement mounting. His hand had pushed up the skirt of her dress, bunching it around her waist. His hand slid back down her front, tucking into her sheer panties and grazing over her clit.

"Maybe?" he whispered back, his deep voice disbelieving. He slid a finger inside of her and she gasped with pleasure. "This doesn't look like maybe to me," he taunted, dragging his lips down her neck.

She had no words to respond, too enraptured at the feel of him around her. He continued his assault on her senses. Kissing, nipping, licking at her neck. Gripping, teasing her breasts. Pulling his slick finger from inside her to stroke her clit. It was so much, so fast, and she surrendered to his touch. Her orgasm came swiftly. Her whole body trembled in his arms as she threw her head back onto his shoulder and cried out. He held her tight throughout, his breathing steady against her flushed skin. His hands stilled but did not leave their positions.

Her shuddering subsided and she leaned even further into Wyatt.

"Did you like that?" he whispered again in her ear, his voice both soft and demanding.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice a shaky as her knees.

"Do you like when I take what I want," he asked, his tongue finding the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Do you like it hard - " he pulled her back into his growing arousal " - and fast?"

"Yes," she murmered, the thrill of anticipation mounting inside her.

"Good," he growled in her ear. Gripping her even tighter in his strong arms, he lifted her and began to cross the tile floor of the front hall. She expected to hear his feet turn down the hallway toward the bedroom. Instead he stopped, set her feet back on the floor, and leaned his torso into hers causing her to bend forward at the waist. Her arms made contact with soft fabric cushions.

He had her bent over the back of the couch.

 _Oh fuck, yes._

He pulled her panties down her thighs and let one hand find her hot core again. "Fuck, Lucy, you are so wet," he whispered against her hair, letting his fingers slide along the entrance. She pushed back into his hand, aching for him to go deeper, for more, but he pulled away. She groaned at the loss of contact.

She heard the sounds of a belt buckle and zipper and the rustle of fabric. His hands gripped her hips tightly and he positioned himself at her entrance.

And stopped.

He bent forward again, lips against her ear. "Say it," he demanded.

She reached a hand up behind her, grasped a fistful of his hair, and pulled his face as close to hers as she could. His stubble scratched her cheek and his hot breath caressed her skin.

"Take me," she breathed, her voice thick with desire. "Fuck me."

She felt his devilish grin against her face. "I knew I liked that mouth," he whispered.

And he drove himself into her.

 _Oh fuck, yes._

She almost came again right away. He felt, if possible, even bigger this way. Stretching her, filling her, exciting her even more. He pulled back, nearly leaving her, before plunging back in. And then again. And again.

He found a fast and steady rhythm, holding her hips steady in his large hands. His lips and teeth grazed her ear as he whispered Spanish words to her. She didn't know these words. These words hadn't come up in the few classes she had taken or on their travels. She got the idea, though.

 _Filthy words._

His voice, she knew from hearing it before, was deeper in this language and it only turned her on even more. His voice, his lips, his body pressed into hers, his driving cock, his fingers back on her clit again. She couldn't see, she couldn't move, she could barely think straight.

She was completely dominated by him.

 _And she fucking loved it._

She was so close to the edge and he knew it. "Come for me, babydoll," he growled in her ear, his free hand finding her breast again. "I want to feel you fucking come."

And she did.

Head thrown back, knees weak, and a cry of ecstasy ripped from her, her whole body shook with renewed pleasure. One more powerful thrust and he followed her over the edge, his own sounds of gratification joining hers.

He held her tight as they rode it out, breathing slowing, senses readjusting, steadiness returning. His lips found her ear again.

"That was unbelievable," he whispered, the predatory tone in his voice replaced by one of adoration and amazement. "Who knew you had a freaky side."

She reached behind her to caress his cheek. "I'm full of surprises," she murmured back, her smile both sultry and satisfied.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "Good," he said, standing upright and taking off her blindfold. He pulled her into his arms as she turned to face him for the first time since they entered the apartment. "I like surprises."

She smiled a wide, sexy, satisfied grin. Grasping a handful of his shirt, she pulled his lips down to hers.

"I hope you like payback, too," she whispered. His deep groan was lost in their kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** \- sorry everyone, the formatting went to hell the first time I posted, so I had to completely delete and repost this chapter. Fingers crossed it works this time.

Chapter 2: Payback

Wyatt was roused from his deep slumber by soft kisses trailing along his jawline. He was normally a pretty heavy sleeper at home but she had a knack for getting his attention. His face was pressed into the soft pillow and he sighed deeply and contentedly as her kisses continued, the ends of her long hair tickling the back of his neck. He felt a comfortable weight across his lower back and realized she had climbed on top of him, legs straddled on either side of his torso. He reached his arms back towards her to run his hands along her shapely legs.

But he couldn't.

 _What the hell?_

His eyes flew open as he struggled to make sense of his situation. It was morning, early morning, by the look of the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains. He was lying on his stomach on their bed, the sheets and pillows still in disarray after the night's activities. Lucy was definitely sitting on his back, still pressing soft, sweet kisses all over his exposed skin, her hands gently roaming across his shoulders.

But what was wrong with his arms?

He tried to move them again but they wouldn't budge from behind his back. He pulled harder, but they wouldn't separate. Twisting his forearms slightly, he felt silky fabric against his skin, holding his two wrists together. Understanding caught up with his sleepy brain.

She had tied him up.

 _With his own damn necktie, by the feel of it._

"Good morning," she purred in his ear.

"Good morning," he mumbled, the side of his face still pressed into the pillow. "I'm pretty sure this is not how I fell asleep," he said, lifting his arms slightly to indicate their conjoined state.

"Nope," she said, "I thought that would be a nice addition for this morning."

He turned his head even further, trying to see her face. "And just what did you have planned for this morning?"

She pressed herself into his back, trapping his arms under her and crushing her breasts against his shoulder blades. Her lips found his ear and she answered in a breathy whisper.

"Payback."

He groaned deeply into his pillow as his eyes fell shut again. A thrill of both dread and excitement shot through his body at the thought of the glorious torture Lucy was about to unleash on him. He felt her grin against the side of his face then the pressure on his back lifted as she pushed herself up on her knees.

"Roll over," she told him.

Wyatt obliged, flipping himself over as instructed. His hungry eyes took in her gorgeous, tousled appearance, long hair cascading over her shoulders, porcelain skin clad in a delicate black lace nightie. As she sat herself astride him again, trapping his growing erection between them, Wyatt pulled himself into a sitting position, capturing her lips with his own.

He kissed her hungrily, greedily, and she reciprocated with equal enthusiasm, tongues duelling for their combined pleasure. He wanted more of this, more of her, more of them, and in that moment the enormity of his situation caught up with him.

 _He couldn't touch her._

 _Could. Not. Touch._

He was a very tactile person. Often, he could barely keep his hands to appropriate places while out in public, and in the bedroom they took on a life, a mission, of their own. And now, she had denied them their fun, their purpose. Wyatt felt almost bereft, even helpless. As she pulled back from their kiss and met his gaze, she seemed to sense some of his inner turmoil. She grinned mischievously.

This woman was going be the death of him

 _But what a way to go._

Arching her back slightly, Lucy ran her fingers into her hair, gathering the long tresses behind her and tying them back in a quick knot. Wyatt leaned forward, drawn toward her, lips seeking the tender skin of her neck. She caught him with a small hand to his chest, stilling his advance.

"Lie back," she said softly.

Wyatt's slow exhale sounded almost like a growl as he lay back on the mattress. He watched through hooded eyes as Lucy placed her hands on his collar bone, fingers splayed and palms cool against his warm skin. Slowly, she slid her hands down his torso, shifting herself backwards as she went. Her hands slowed as they neared their destination, prolonging his wait. Finally, she wrapped both hands around his length, her eyes flicking upward to find his again.

Wyatt was determined to maintain some scrap of control, of fortitude, of dignity, no matter what she did to him. He held her gaze and kept his face as still as possible, his breathing steady and easy – for now. As she shifted her body again, she bent towards him and replaced one softly stroking hand with her mouth. With a deep guttural groan, Wyatt's eyes fell shut.

Lucy started slow with gentle teasing flicks of her tongue, her lips wrapped around the head while her hand continued is gentle, rhythmic stroking. Wyatt cursed softly under his breath as her delicate ministrations already threatened to overwhelm him. Then suddenly, and without preamble, she engulfed him completely in her mouth.

"Fuck, Lucy," he groaned, his eyes now rolling back in his head with pleasure. It was taking all his concentration not to come in her mouth right then. Slowly – painfully slowly – she pulled her head back, applying steady pressure along the length of him with her tongue, then swirling it around the tip, sucking gently, before diving in again.

Wyatt was beside himself, denied the ability to touch her, fighting the overwhelming instinct to thrust himself upward. Lucy, again sensing his inner struggle, reached out with one hand, letting it glide up his thigh to rest on his hip, steadying him. Her motions slowed slightly. Wyatt exhaled with silent relief and opened his eyes again. No sooner had their gazes met than Wyatt felt Lucy's other hand softly cup his balls, and he lost control all over again.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Lucy," he gasped, unable to stop his own hips from rising off the bed towards her. She took him fully, deeply, her mouth so hot and wet against his tender skin, her hands continuing their delicate massage. He felt the last of his resolve unravelling as he hurtled towards his breaking point. He was close, _so close_ , and just when he thought she'd push him right over the edge, she stopped.

Wyatt let out a slow, shaky breath, bewildered, tormented, and relieved all at once at the sudden loss of contact. His eyes sought hers, his brain trying to keep up. She was still kneeling over him, his rigid cock seemingly straining towards her, and she was still wearing that wide, mischievous grin.

"Are you ok?" she asked, slyly and teasingly, fully aware he couldn't form an answer to that question. Wyatt merely groaned as his head fell back into his pillow.

"You seem frustrated," she said knowingly, tauntingly. "Like you want something, so clearly, so _badly_ , but you just can't have it." She began to move her body forward along his outstretched legs towards his hips.

"You know," she said, her voice becoming deeper and more seductive, her hands sliding up his abdomen, "when I'm away from you, I can get pretty frustrated too." She sat astride his pelvis again and he could feel her wetness against his cock. "I think I've been spoiled by you, what you do to me, how you make me feel, and I just want it, all the time."

She pushed against his solid chest as she rose up on her knees, positioning herself over the tip of his cock. Again, he felt himself strain towards her, but she held perfectly still just out of reach, watching his face, enjoying his quiet suffering.

"Sometimes," her voice barely more than a low whisper now, "when you're away and I'm all alone in our bed, I'll think of you, and I'll touch myself." She slid her hands up her own thighs to her centre, gently fingering her clit. "I'll pretend my fingers are your fingers, and remember the way they touch me, stroke me, fill me, the way they beg me to come for you."

Wyatt watched her, transfixed, her sultry words filling his ears. The idea of her pleasuring herself, of driving herself to her own release, all while thinking of him, aroused him more than he thought possible. His eyes were drawn to her hands, now moving faster, deeper, occasionally brushing the tip of his erection with slick fingers. The tension inside him was mounting to unbearable heights again, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the exhibition before him.

"But," she breathed, a note of frustration seeping into her voice, "no matter what I do, no matter what I imagine, nothing ever feels the same as you."

She paused again, and Wyatt lifted his eyes to fix her with an intense, demanding, pleading stare. "Lucy," he whispered, his voice cracking with frustration, desire, _need._ " _Please_."

And with an aching slowness, she slid down onto him, taking him to the hilt.

Wyatt felt a shred of relief as he at long last felt the contact he so badly craved, but that was instantly surpassed by the inexpressible and overwhelming pleasure of being inside her. Wrapped in her, _buried in her_ , finally – _finally_ – part of her again.

His heart pounded in his chest and his arms strained at their bindings as she began to rise and fall, always careful to keep him inside her. He wasn't going to last very long but he was past caring. Pressing his heels into the bed he tilted his hips forward, changing the angle at which they met and hitting that spot inside her he knew drove her mad. She threw her head back in delight, the loose ends of her long hair tickling the tops of his thighs. Her fingers pressed into her clit one last time, and she found her shaky release. In that instant, he finally let go.

And his world exploded.

Stars flashed in his eyes and incoherent sounds were torn from his lips. His blood ran hot, every nerve ending on fire, then at once soothed by his glorious release. His cock throbbed within her, matching her own pulse, and their bodies trembled together, savouring each other's prolonged pleasure.

Gradually, eventually, his toes uncurled and he lifted heavy eyelids to look at her. He thought she never looked more beautiful than in this moment – flushed, sated, joyful, and gazing adoringly down at him.

"Come here," she whispered.

With some effort, he sat up, his body still trembling and feeling entirely too soft. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sinking into her, pressing kisses to the silky skin and mumbling indistinct words of love and reverence.

She reached behind him and grasped the loose end of the necktie that would release him from his bondage. Wyatt caught a fleeting look of trepidation cross her face as though she worried what manner of retribution he had in store for her once the use of his hands was returned to him.

She pulled the necktie loose.

His hands flew to her face and he kissed her with wild abandon, as though trying to make up for all the kisses she had denied him. His tongue swept her honeyed mouth, revelling in the taste and softness and familiarity of her. Her fingers threaded into his tousled hair and she kissed him back with equal fervour.

Coming up for air, he pressed his forehead against hers, still holding her face, their chests heaving in unison.

"That was…I don't even…you…" He shook his head, words failing him. Placing one last, passionate, crushing kiss on her lips, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tiny body into his. His hands roamed her body as if bidden to memorize it, truly appreciating the gift it was to be able to touch her, caress her, hold her, keep her.

Lucy nestled her head into his shoulder, basking in his tender attention. She tilted her chin slightly to murmur in his ear. "So, I'm gonna pay for that, aren't I?"

Wyatt pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "In the best possible way, Babydoll. Over and over again."


End file.
